Part 17

When Dan'l found the whiskey in Brander's boat, and came toward Faith with the open jug in his hands, Faith stood with a white face, looking steadily at Brander, and not at Dan'l at all. Brander had made one move when Dan'l lifted the jug; he had stepped quickly toward the boat, but Faith spoke quietly to him, and he stopped, and looked at her....

Dan'l was watching the two of them. Mauger saw a chance, and as the mate passed where the one-eyed man crouched, Mauger leaped at him to snatch the whiskey away. Tichel caught Mauger from behind, and held him....

The little man had had the best intentions in the world; but this movement on his part completed the evidence of Brander's guilt; for Mauger was Brander's man, loyal as a dog, and Faith knew it. She thought quickly, remembering the past days, remembering Mauger's furtive air and Brander's aloofness, and his support of Mauger against Tichel.... She was sure, before Dan'l reached her with the jug, that Mauger and Brander were guilty as Judas.... That Brander was guilty as Judas.... She scarce considered Mauger at all.

Dan'l handed her the jug, and she smelled at it. Whiskey, beyond a doubt. She took it to the rail and poured it overside as she had poured the contents of the bottle. Then came slowly back and handed the empty jug to Brander.

"This is yours," she said. "You had best rinse it and fill it with water and put it in your boat again."

The moon was bright upon them as they stood on the deck. He could see her face, he could see her eyes; and he saw that she thought him guilty. His soul sickened with the bitterness of it; and his lips twisted in a smile.

"Very well," he said.

She looked at him, a little wistfully. "You're not denying it's yours?"

He shook his head. "No." If she believed, let her believe. He was furious with her....

"Why did you do it?" she asked.

He said nothing; and she looked up at him a moment more, and then turned to Mauger. "Why did you do it?" she asked the little man.

Mauger squinted sidewise at Brander. Mauger was Brander's man; and all his loyalty was to Brander. Brander chose not to speak, not to deny the charge she laid against them.... All right; if Brander could keep silent, so could he. If Brander would not deny, neither would he. He grinned at Faith; and the closed lids that covered his empty eye-socket seemed to wink; but he said nothing at all.

Dan'l Tobey chuckled at Brander. "Eh, Brander, I'm ashamed for ye," he said. "Such an example t'the crew."

Brander held silent. He was waiting for Faith to speak....

When neither Brander nor Mauger would answer her, Faith turned her back on them all and went to the after rail and stood there alone, thinking.... She knew Dan'l would wait on her word.... What was she to do? She needed Brander; she would need him more and more.... Dan'l was never to be trusted; she must have a man at her back.... Brander.... In spite of her belief that he had done this thieving, she trusted him.... And loved him.... Loved him so that as she stood there with her back to them all, the tears rolled down her cheeks, and her nails dug at her palms.... Why had he done this? Why did he not deny? Protest? Defend himself? She loved him so much that she hated him. If he had offended against herself alone, she might have forgiven.... But by stealing whiskey and giving it to the crew he was striking at the welfare of the _Sally Sims_ herself.... And the _Sally_ was dearer to Faith just now than herself.

He had struck at the _Sally_; she set her lips and brushed the tears from her cheeks and turned back to them. "Mr. Tobey," she said. "Put Mr. Brander in irons, below. Give Mauger a whipping and send him forward." She hesitated a moment, glanced at Willis. "If you'll come down to the cabin with me," she said, "I'll give you the irons."

Willis stepped toward her; and with no further glance for Brander, she turned and went below.

* * * * *

They had been two weeks hard and fast on the sand; there was another week ahead of them. An easterly storm would cement them into the sand beyond any help; and the men looked for it daily.... For the rest, there was little to do. The _Sally_ was in shape again, ready to be off if she had the chance.... The men, with black faces, loafed about the fore deck and whispered man to man; and Dan'l went among them now and then, and talked much with Roy, and some with the others.... Roy was elated in those days; the boy went about with shining eyes and triumphant lips. Every other face among the crew was morose save his....

Dan'l was not morose. He was overly cheerful in those days. He spoke in louder tones than was his custom; and there was no caustic bite to his tongue. But his eyes were narrower, and more furtive.... And once or twice Faith saw him turn away from a word with some of the crew and catch sight of her watching him, and flush uneasily....

But Faith scarce heeded; she was sick with sorrow, and sick with anxiety.... The tides were rising higher every day; she watched for the hour when they should lift the _Sally_.... And at each high tide, she made the men stand to the capstan bars, and fight in desperate efforts to fetch the _Sally_ free. The day before the night of the full of the moon, she had them fetch up casks from the hold and lower them overside and raft them there.... Cask after cask, as many as the men could handle during the day, so that the _Sally_ was lighter at nightfall than she had ever been before.

The tide was at the flood that night at nine; and for half an hour before, and for a full hour after the waters had begun to ebb, every man of them strove to stir the _Sally_.... And strove fruitlessly; for the ship seemed fast-bedded in the sand, beyond moving. At ten o'clock, Faith left the deck and went sick-heartedly below....

At half past ten, Dan'l knocked on the door of the after cabin, and she bade him come in. He opened the door, shut it behind him, looked at her with his cap in his hands for a space, then sat down on the seat beside the desk where she was sitting.

"Eh, Faith," he said, "we're stuck."

For a moment, she did not answer; then she lifted her head and looked at him. "There's a high tide to-morrow night; comes a bit higher than it is on the flood," she said. "We'll get out more casks to-morrow, and to-morrow night we'll float her."

Dan'l shook his head slowly. "You're brave, Faith, and strong.... But the sea's stronger. I've sailed them long enough to know."

She said steadfastly: "The _Sally Sims_ has got to come free. It's in my mind to get her off if we have to take every stick out of her and lift her off ourselves...."

"If we could do it, I'd be with you," he told her. "But we can't, Faith."

"We will," she said.

He smiled, studied her for a moment, then leaned toward her, resting his hands on the desk. "Faith," he said softly, "you're a wonderful, brave woman."

She looked at him with a weary flicker of lips and eyes that might have passed for a smile. "It's not that I'm brave, Dan'l," she said. "It's just that I'll not let Noll Wing's ship rot here when it should be bound home t'the other side of the world."

"Noll Wing's ship?" he echoed. "Eh, Faith, but Noll Wing is dead and gone."

She nodded. "Yes."

"He's dead and gone, Faith," he repeated swiftly. "He's dead, and gone.... And but for Noll Wing, Faith, you'd have loved me, three year ago."

She looked up, then, and studied him, and she said softly: "You'll mind, Dan'l, that Noll Wing is not but three weeks dead.... Even now."

"Three weeks dead!" he cried. "Have I not seen? He's been a dead man this year past; a dead man that walked and talked and swore.... But dead this year past. You've been a widow for a year, Faith...."

She shook her head. "So long as the _Sally_ lies here on the sand," she said, "I'm not Noll Wing's widow; I'm his wife. It was his job to bring her home; and so it is my job, too. And will be, till she's fast to the wharf at home."

"Then you'll die his wife, Faith; for the _Sally_'ll never stir from here."

"If she never does," said Faith, "I'll die Noll Wing's wife, as you say."

He cried breathlessly: "What was Noll Wing that you should cling to him so, Faith?"

"He was the man I loved," she said.

His face blackened, and his fist banged the desk. "Aye; and but for him you'd have loved me. Loved me...."

"I never told you that, Dan'l."

"But 'twas true. I could see. You'd have loved me, Faith...."

"Dan'l," she said slowly, "I'm in no mind to talk so much of love, this night."

The man sat back in silence for a space, not looking at her; nor did she look at him. In the end, however, he shaped his words afresh. "Faith," he said softly, "we were boy and girl together, you and I. Grew up together, played together.... I loved you before you were more than a girl. Before you ever saw Noll Wing. Can you remember?"

He was striving with all his might to win her; and Faith said gently: "Yes, Dan'l. I remember."

"When I sailed away, last cruise but one, you kissed me, Faith. Do you mind?"

She looked at him in honest surprise. "I kissed you, Dan'l?"

"Yes. On the forehead...."

She shook her head. "I don't remember ... at all."

If he had been wholly wise, he would have known that her not remembering was the end of him; but Dan'l in that moment was not even a little wise. He was playing for a big stake; Faith was never so lovely in his eyes; and there was desperation in him. He was blind with the heat of his own desire.... He cried now:

"You do remember. You're pretending, Faith. You could not forget. You loved me then; and, Faith, you love me now."

She shook her head. "No, Dan'l. Have done."

"I love you, Faith; you love me, now."

"No."

He leaned very close to her. "You do not know; you're not listening to your heart. I know more of your heart than you know, Faith...."

"No, no, no, Dan'l," she said insistently.

He flamed at her in sudden fury: "If it's not me, it's Brander.... Him that you...."

"Brander?" she cried, in a passion. "Brander? The thief that's lying now in the irons I put upon him? Him? Him you say I love?"

The very force of her anger should have told him the truth; but he was so blind that it served only to rejoice him. "I knew it," he cried. "I knew it. So you love me, Faith?..."

"Must a woman always be loving?" she demanded wearily.

"Aye, Faith. It's the nature of them.... Always to be loving.... Some one. With you, Faith, it's me. Listen and see...."

"Dan'l," she said steadily, "what's the end of all this? What's the end of it all? What would you have me do?"

"Love me," he told her.

"What else?"

"See the truth," he said. "Understand that the _Sally_ is lost.... Fast aground, here, to rot her bones away.... See that it's hopeless and wild to stick by her. We'll get out the boats. You and I and Roy and a man or two will take one; the others may have the other craft. It's not fifty miles to..."

"Leave the _Sally_?" she demanded.

"Yes."

"I'll not talk with you, Dan'l. I'll never do that."

"There's th' ambergris," he reminded her. "We'll take that. It will recompense old Jonathan for his _Sally_ and her oil."

Her word was so sharp that it checked him; he was up on his feet, bending above her, pouring out his pleadings.... But she threw him into silence with that last word; and the red flush of passion in his face blackened to something worse, and his tongue thickened with the heat in him. He bent a little nearer, while her eyes met his steadily; and his hands dropped and gripped her arms above the elbows. She came to her feet, facing him....

"Dan'l," she said warningly.

"If you'll not go because you will, you'll go because you must," he told her huskily and harshly. "Go because you must.... Whine at my feet afore I'm through with you. Beg me to marry you in th' end...."

If she had been able to hold still, to hold his eyes with hers, she might have mastered him even then; for in any match of courage against courage, she was the stronger. But the horror of him overwhelmed her; she tried to wrench away. The struggle of her fired him.... In a battle of strength and strength she had no chance. He swung her against his chest, and she flung her head back that her lips might escape him. He laughed. His lips were dry and twitching as she fought to be away from him; he held her for an instant, held her striving body against his own to revel in its struggles....

He had her thus in his arms, forcing her back, crushing her, when the door flung open and Roy Kilcup stood there. The boy cried in desperate warning:

"Dan'l, Brander is...."

Then he comprehended that which he saw; and he screamed with the fury of an animal, and flung himself at Dan'l, tearing at the man with his strength of a boy.

XXVIII

Dan'l had laid his plans well; he had felt sure of success; but he had not counted on trouble with Faith. He thought, after their failure to float the _Sally_, she would be crushed and ready to fall into his arms; ready at least to yield to his advice and come away and leave the _Sally Sims_ where she lay.

After that, Dan'l counted on separating the crew by losing the other boats. The ambergris would be in his; he would master the men with him.... Faith and the treasure would be his....

Brander was to stay in the _Sally_, ironed in the after 'tween decks. Dan'l thought Brander was destroyed by the evidence of his thieving; he no longer feared the man.

Not all the crew would go with him when he left the ship. Old Tichel had refused. "I've waited all my days to be cap'n of a craft," Tichel declared. "With you gone, I'm master o' the _Sally_, I'll stay and get the feeling of it." And Dan'l was willing to let him stay. Willis Cox agreed to do as Faith decided. Long Jim, the harpooner, was loyal to Tichel. Loum, Dan'l did not trust. The man might stay with Brander if he chose.

But Dan'l had on his side Kellick, the steward; and Yella' Boy, and Silva, and four seamen from forward, and seven of those who had shipped as green hands. Silva hated Brander no less than Dan'l, for Brander had been given the mate's berth that Silva claimed.... Silva was Dan'l's right-hand man in his plans.

And Roy, of course, was Dan'l's, to do with as he chose.

Mauger got some whisperings of all this in the fo'c's'le. There was no effort to keep it secret from him; no effort to keep the matter secret at all. Dan'l had said openly that if the _Sally_ did not float, he was for deserting her; those might come with him who chose. Save Mauger, there were none openly against him. Tichel would stay, Willis waited on Faith's word, but the rest held off and swung neither one way nor another.

All of which Mauger, with infinite stealth, told Brander, sneaking down into the after 'tween decks at peril of his skin, night after night; and Brander, fast-ironed there, and taking his calamities very philosophically, praised the little man. "Keep your eyes open," he said. "Bring me any word you get. Warn me in full time. And--find me a good, keen file."

Mauger fetched the file, pilfering it from the tool chest of Eph Hitch, the cooper. Brander worked patiently at his bonds, submitting without protest to his captivity.

That night of the full moon, after they had failed to float the _Sally_, Dan'l called Silva and bade him prepare two boats. "Get food and water into them," he said. "Plenty. Make them ready. Tell the rest of them to lower if they've a mind. I'm for leaving."

Silva grinned his understanding. He asked a question. Dan'l said: "I'm going down, now, to convince her. She'll come, no fear."

He went below and left Silva to prepare the boats. Old Tichel was on deck, but Willis had gone below. Tichel did not molest Silva. Discipline had evaporated on the _Sally_; it was every man for himself. Those who were for leaving ship were hotly impatient; and one boat full of men lowered and drew slowly away toward the mouth of the cove where the _Sally_ lay. There was no wind; the sea was glassy; and their oars stirred the water into sparkling showers like jewels. Kellick and Yella' Boy and four seamen were in that boat. Five of the green hands and Tinch, the cook, caught the infection, and dumped food into another and water, and followed....

Silva got his boat overside. He had with him two men, men of his choosing who had signed as green hands but were stalwarts now. He saw that the boat was ready, then stood in her by the rail, waiting for Dan'l to come with Faith. Roy was on the after deck, where he would join them.

The men in the two boats that had already put off were lying on their oars, half a mile away, watching the _Sally_. In all their minds was the thought of the ambergris. They had no notion of leaving that behind; and they did not mean to be tricked of their share in it. Silva could see the boats idly drifting....

Mauger had slipped down to Brander with the word. "Two boats gone a'ready," he said. "Silva waiting for Dan'l Tobey, now."

"Where's Faith?" Brander asked.

"In the cabin. Mr. Tobey went to her. He've not come up, yet."

Brander considered. "Fetch a handspike," he said; and Mauger crawled on deck and returned with it, and Brander pried open the irons he had filed apart. He stood up and shook himself to ease the ache of his muscles. "Now," he said, "let's go see...."

He climbed up on deck, Mauger at his heels, and started aft. Roy saw him coming, and Silva, from the rail, marked his movements and watched. Roy dropped into the cabin to warn Dan'l; Brander leaped to follow him. Silva spoke to his two men, and plunged up to the deck and darted after Brander.

Brander was at the foot of the companion ladder in the cabin when Roy threw open the door of the after cabin to shout his warning; he saw, as Roy saw, Dan'l gripping Faith and struggling with her. He heard Roy's cry.... Leaped that way....

Roy was before him. Roy, grown into a man in that moment. Dan'l had told him they would leave the ship, told him nothing more. Roy hated his sister, and Dan'l knew this, and feared no trouble from the boy. But he forgot that a boy's hate is not over strong. When Roy saw Faith in Dan'l's arms, helplessly fighting against his kisses, he leaped to protect her as though there had never been harsh words between them. Roy was on Faith's side, thenceforward.

The boy gripped Dan'l from behind; and for an instant more Dan'l clung to Faith. His encircling arm tightened about her so that she thought her ribs would crack; and when he flung her away, she was breathless and sick to nausea, and she fell on the floor and lay there, retching and gasping for breath. Dan'l flung her away, and swung on Roy.

"You young fool," he swore, "I'll kill you, now."

Roy was helpless before him. Dan'l held him by the throat, his fingers sinking home, Roy beat and tore at the man helplessly for a space, then his face blackened, and his eyes bulged, and Dan'l flung him away.

Brander might have helped him, but for the fact that three men dropped on him from the companion hatch and bore him smothering to the deck. The three were Silva and his allies. Silva had a knife; and Mauger had felt it, on the deck above. The one-eyed man lay there now, twisting and clutching at a hole in his side. Silva was first down on Brander; and he struck at Brander's neck as he leaped. But Brander had time to dodge to one side, so that Silva hit him on the hip and bore him down. Then the other two were upon him....

This sudden tumult in the cabin rang through the _Sally_. The night was still; the noise could be heard even by the boats that drifted half a mile away. Its abrupt outbreak was unsettling; it jangled taut nerves. The two remaining seamen and Long Jim, Loum, and Eph Hitch lost courage, raced for a boat, dropped it to the water and pulled off to see what was to come. Tichel, who was on deck, ran to try to stop them; but Loum struck out blindly and threw the mate off-balance for an instant that was long enough to let them get away.

The desertion of these last men left on the _Sally_ only the four officers, Roy, Mauger, Silva, and Silva's two men. Faith was still helpless, so was Roy, and Mauger had dragged himself upright against the bulwarks and stripped up his shirt to investigate his wound. It was bleeding profusely, but he found he could breathe without difficulty, and told himself shrewdly that he would come out all right.

Of men able to fight aboard the _Sally_, there were left Dan'l, Silva, and the two seamen on one side, against Brander and Tichel and Cox. The attitude of Tichel and Cox was in some sort uncertain. But the problem was quickly settled....

Dan'l, dropping Faith and flinging Roy aside, had charged into the main cabin to finish Brander; but Brander was so inextricably involved in his struggle with his three antagonists that Dan'l got no immediate chance at him. He was shifting around the twisting tangle of men, watching, when Willis came out of his cabin in a single leap.... Willis had been asleep; he was in shirt and trousers, his belt tight-girthed. He stared stupidly, not understanding.

Dan'l, balked of his chance at Brander, took Willis for fair game. If he thought at all, it was to remember that Willis was loyal to Faith. He attacked before Willis was fully awake, and bore the other man back into the cabin from which Willis had come. He bent Willis against the bunks so that for an instant it seemed the man's back would snap; but desperation gave Willis the strength to fling himself away.... They whirled into the cabin, still fighting. Dan'l was drunk with his own rage by now.... He had thrown himself into a debauch of battle; and he proved, this night, that he could fight when he chose....

He rocked Willis at last with a left-hand blow in the ribs, so that the younger man dropped his arms to hug his bruised body; and Dan'l drove home his fist to the other's jaw. The blow smacked loudly; and Willis went down without a sound, his jaw broken....

If old Tichel had come down the companion ladder a minute sooner, he might have saved Willis; and he and Willis between them might have overcome Dan'l. But he was too late for that; he was in time to see Willis fall; and before he could speak, Dan'l Tobey had attacked him.

Dan'l was pure maniac now; he did not stop to ask whether Tichel were friend or foe. And Tichel, old man though he was, was never one to refuse a battle. He met Dan'l's charge with the tigerish venom that characterized him in his rages; he leaped and was fairly in the air when Dan'l struck him. But Dan'l's greater weight and the impetus of his charge were too much for old Tichel. In the flash of a second, Dan'l had him by the throat, down, banging his head against the floor till the skin of his scalp was crushed and the blood flowed, and Tichel at last lay still....

Dan'l got up, choking for breath, his chin down on his chest. There was blood on him; his shirt was torn; his hair was wild. The mild, round face of the man was distorted by wrinkles of passion. His lip was bruised by a blow, and it puffed out in a surly, drunken way.... He stood there, tottering, looking with blinking eyes at the heap of men fighting at one side of the cabin.... Brander was in that heap somewhere. It was still less than thirty seconds since Dan'l had smashed Willis's jaw. Dan'l stepped unsteadily toward the heap of men and peered down at them and laid hands on them to pull them away.... They were too closely intertwined....

He backed off and looked around for a weapon. In a corner of the cabin he saw something that might serve.... The head of a killing lance.... A bar of metal three or four feet long, flattened at one end like the blade of a putty knife, and ground to the keenest edge.... In the whale-fisheries, it would be mounted on a staff; but there was no staff in it now. He picked the thing up, and balanced it in his hands, and walked gingerly back toward the striving knot of men.

* * * * *